Jennifer 'Jinx' Quill
by dark-prisim
Summary: The cousin of Peter Quill is left with a single question lingering in her mind; Where did he go? That question is answered twenty seven years later.
1. Prologue

**This is only the prologue, so I'm sorry it's a slow start but I just need to explain the setting a bit so you can understand what is happening. Hopefully you can bear with me and wait for the next chapter. But I appreciate you reading my work! Thanks! If no one is really reading it then it shall become a one-shot :)**

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><p>Aunt Meredith is dying.<p>

Daddy says she caught the evil cold, and will be fine soon. They think I'm stupid, just because I'm young and innocent but in reality I know what's going on. It's the terminal cancer. My mommy is already dead, and I never even got to meet her. She died after giving birth to me, and so I blame myself every day for it.

Aunt Meredith treated me like her own child, and I treated her like my own mom. She was always so nice and protective of me. I remember during the summers I used to stay over her house and we'd sleep on the roof. She promised never to tell my Dad because she knew he'd freak. First we'd watch the sun sink down and the beautiful stars rise. Aunt Meredith showed me all the constellations, and we'd sip on her homemade lemonade with the little umbrellas hanging off the sides. She was so fascinated the galaxy, especially the stars and different planets. Then in the morning, we'd make pancakes together and watch some movies; Footloose, Back to the Future, The Goonies, and sometimes Nightmare on Elm Street.

Peter joined us sometimes, but he was usually locked in his room listening to that damn Walkman. When he did come out, he never smiled, he rarely spoke. He was sad, and I never knew why. Aunt Meredith said it was because he never got enough sleep, but now I know the real reason. He knew all that time that she had cancer. When I found out I felt sick, as if it was bad to have fun with her while she was like that.

Before my Aunt's sickness Peter and I were really close cousins. We'd talk and talk for hours about…anything! We loved the same music, movies, anything you can name. Aunt Meredith nicknamed him Starlord because he loved the star constellations, and I liked to call him that too. He called me Jinx because I am a klutz, although my name is Jennifer. I was hurt and shocked when he started to drift away.

"Jenny, come on sweetie." Dad said, with the car door opened. I looked to him with stinging eyes, and tried to push the feeling away but it wouldn't. I didn't want to go inside the hospital. "Jennifer" He repeated sternly, this time holding out a hand to take.

I glanced down to his hand, and slowly unbuckled my seatbelt. I took his hand and groggily slipped out of the car. As he slammed the car door behind me, the loud thud made me jump.

The sky was black and there were no stars. I realised that it was raining lightly, fitting a perfect mood for this horrible, horrible event. Daddy and I walked in silence on the way to the door of the hospital. The grass and mud beneath my feet squelched and oozed from previous rain.

Daddy walked up to the receptionist's desk to a lady who wore too much red lipstick, and he asked for "Meredith Quill". The lady answered with a room number that I didn't really listen to and she flashed a pearly white grin. We didn't smile back, although Dad did thank her.

I released my hand around his, feeling sweat form in my palms and felt a little embarrassed but I'm sure he didn't mind.

We began to walk down the hallway and took two turns, to where the room was. It was darker here, and the receptionist's desk was empty. I saw Peter sitting on a chair beside the empty desk, wearing his headphones and squeezing his eyes shut. I didn't want to say anything to him.

Dad noticed him too and looked down at me, "Go sit with your cousin while I say hello to your aunt." He says and kisses me on top of my head. He disappears into the room, and basically forces me greet my cousin.

I fumble with my hands a little before mustering up the courage to take a seat next to Peter. He doesn't open his eyes, but he knows it's me. I can tell by the way he huffs and turns a little.

"Hi." I say timidly, my voice soft and shaking.

He doesn't reply.

I gently take off his headphones and put them around his neck, yet his eyes remain closed. "Peter." I say desperately. He opens his glossy eyes slowly and looks up to me. I can tell he has been crying but I don't say anything because he's a boy.

"Jennifer" Peter whispers. He rarely calls me by my real name – it's usually Jinx.

I force myself not to cry, especially in front of him. He notices and slowly puts an arm around my shoulders and then plants a small kiss on my cheek. We sit there in pure silence for a little while, with the exceptions of the faint music playing from his headphones.

I point to his headphones and ask, "What song is it?"

He places the headphones back on and instantly answers, "I'm Not in Love, by 10cc."

I nod at him and he slowly nods back. His hand slides off my shoulders and he closes his eyes once more. I sit back into my seat and scratch off the purple nail polish on my thumb nail, waiting for something to happen.

The door of the room finally opens, and Grandpa walks out with a grim expression but does his best to look somewhat happy in front of us. There is nothing to be happy about. He takes in a deep breath and kneels in front of Peter.

"Peter," he says. "Your momma wants to speak to you." He goes on, but Peter doesn't seem to be interested in what he has to say.

Grandpa sighs, and then removes Peter's headphones but he doesn't say anything. He just looks down sadly and pats Peter on the leg, then turns to me with a sad smile. "C'mon, Jenn." He encourages lightly.

Peter and I stand up from our seats, and follow Grandpa.

I see her, but I don't recognise her.

Her blonde hair is gone, and her skin is fading and dry. Her bright blue eyes are darkened and she has dark bags. I look down to the hospital plate, and it read exactly "Quill, Meredith". All my relatives stood around the bed, confirming that it was her. My hand went across my mouth and I tried not to whimper.

"Jennifer, my beautiful niece." Meredith croaks, and looks at me with a ghost of a smile. Grandpa pushes me closer to her bedside. She still smells like daisies and vanilla cake batter. I can't say anything, my throat is really dry. "You are so beautiful." She says lightly and brushes her hand across my head. I try smiling a little, since it's the only thing I can do.

"Look after my Peter for me?" Aunt Meredith asks.

"Yes." I whisper, and look to Peter who stares at the floor. I take a step back and allow him to talk to his dying mother.

Meredith looks sadder when her son comes in to sight, and I sneak behind my Daddy's legs. My vision blurred a little and I didn't really listen to what they were saying to each other. I cannot imagine a life without Aunt Meredith, without a motherly figure, without someone to make me happy.

I begin to pay attention when Meredith falls out of breath and my eyes widen.

"Meredith, you got a present there for Peter?" Grandpa reminds her.

"Of course." She says, and attempts to grab the little wrapped gift right beside her. Grandpa grabs the gift for her and stuffs it inside of Peter's backpack, with a light smile.

"You open it up when I'm gone, okay?" Aunt Meredith looks to Peter and he nods sadly.

"Your Grandpa is going to take such good care of you, that is until your Daddy comes back to get you." She explains to Peter in an unintentionally soft voice. I had almost forgotten Peter had a father; it had always been him and his mother. It would be strange to see him with a Dad.

"Can you grab my hand?" she asks her son, and tries her best to raise her hand up to him. Peter only looks away and I grip tightly on to my father's leg. "Peter, please…" she urges weakly, but Peter continues to look away.

"Pete." Grandpa looks down to Peter.

"Take my hand." Meredith sniffs, but he doesn't have a chance to do so.

Because she is dead.

"No! No, no, no! Mom! " Peter shouts and tries to wake his mother up. Grandpa grabs Peter and takes him outside of the room.

"Peter!" I yell and try to run but my Dad and aunty pull me back. "Peter!" I shout again, hearing him scream and Grandpa struggles to tame him.

I never knew that would be the last time I saw not only my Aunt Meredith, but Peter…


	2. Dirt Tracks and Bad Friends

It's late when Dad comes in my room on a Sunday morning, dressed and clutching a mug of hot chocolate. The mug has a daisy painted on it, and there are two marshmallows floating in the foam.

"I thought I'd leave you to rest for a bit. How are you feeling?" he asks.

"Fine," I lie quietly. "Tired."

"You look exhausted. There are many people trying to get in touch with you. I told them they could talk to you later."

"Thanks, Dad." I whisper hoarsely, forcing myself not to cry in front of him.

"Where shall I put this?" he asks, holding out the mug of hot chocolate. We cast around my room for a mug-sized space but there isn't one. I shift a pile of coloring books on top of another to make some room. He places it down on the table and sighs.

"Sure you're okay?"

I nod and look down to my lap, "I just need to be on my own."

He gives me a sympathetic smile, but the smile gradually fades. He's already lost Mom. It must be hard to lose a sister, and a nephew. He gives me one last nod before shutting the door to my room and walking downstairs. Instinctively, I grab the nearest pillow and stuff my face in the soft cotton.

My eyes were burning and my chest felt heavy as if it were filled with lead. I could no longer see clearly. All I knew is that Aunt Meredith is gone, out of my life forever. How am I supposed live like this? She is gone, and she is never coming back.

I still have hope for Peter. He could still come back.

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><p><em>27 Years Later…<em>

We never really found Peter. And we tried everything in our power to find him; security cameras, flyers, detectives. During the moment of my Aunt's death, the hospital's security footage had been hijacked and wiped out as if it had never been recorded. The flyers and posters didn't help, and no one even contacted us. Police were not able to trace my cousin's whereabouts, thanks to their technology back in the 80' he is right now will remain an unsolved mystery.

I became incredibly depressed with the loss of my Aunt Meredith and cousin, Peter. I lost all my friends, and that was my own fault. I shut them all out, and I rarely turned up at school. That was until my Dad had enough, and practically forced me to go during seventh grade. I tried my best to pay attention but somehow gained a rebellious streak. Then summer break hit, but it wasn't the same. It was never quite the same. The homemade lemonade tasted different and the little umbrellas looked quite silly.

After graduating I decided to move to move away from home to study astronomy. I completed other subjects such as biology and mechanical engineering, but had always favoured astronomy ever since I was a child. I didn't really make any friends in university. I never liked to speak to anyone since they were all rather obnoxious and girly, and my confidence levels had lowered even more during that time.

Surviving a number of years in that sweat house, I had gained several impressive degrees and a unique job. Then many things happened; flying men in metal suits, a super solider from the 40's, an unexpected extraterrestrial visitor. I knew from then that our world would never be the same, and so I quit my job. I moved back to my small town in Missouri.

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><p>"Coming around the last turn on the final lap...We have a winner! Number 44 crossing the line first for the checkered flag! Let's hear it for Conner Cranston!" the loud speakers blur across the track.<p>

My face lights up and I begin screaming among the crowd. The crowd is not too big, approximately two hundred people, yet the cheering and hollering are extremely loud. The day is beautiful and warm, and the smell of burning rubber fills the air. I pull my friend, Tessa, along and rush up to the wired gate with excitement so we could get a better look of the dirt track.

All the other cars come to a stop and the frustrated drivers come out, throwing their helmets to the floor.

"Yeah! He just won!" I shout over the crowd's voice, and turn to Tessa. She shakes her head at me and smiles with her berry glossed lips. She obviously wasn't as excited as I was. Well I have every right to be. My boyfriend just won a car race!

"Conner!" I yell, slipping my fingers through the gate and try to get his attention.

He pulls his helmet off and shakes his hair, looking over to me with a grin. "Go up there, you get that flag and get that cute ass out here right now!" he shouts, pointing up to the short wooden tower where the announcer and flag holders were.

I discover a wired door that leads to the track and find out how to open it, with some minor struggle.

"Hey, what are you doin'?" Tessa asks me in her strong Southern drawl. I look back at her with a smirk before running off to the tower, and climbing up to the ladder. The men all look down at me with strange looks, and before they could say anything I snatch the checkered flag off of one man and jump back down to the ground.

"Come back here with that!" the man yells and I laugh, quickly running off to Conner and his racing car.

"Jennifer Quill, what the hell are you doing?!" Tessa yells at me through the gate, but I continue to ignore her.

"Hammer down, baby!" Conner welcomes me with a grin, and then leaning in to plant a kiss on my lips.

"Conner Cranston! I don't care if your daddy does own this track; you've got to get her out of here!" the flag holder yells down from the wooden tower.

"You can chase me down, old man. Chase me down!" Conner shouts back and pulls his helmet back on. He opens the door to his racing car and slides in the driver's seat. I run around to the passenger's seat and go inside, but instead of sitting on the seat I sit on the window's frame.

"Get back here! You're going to get yourself killed out there!" Tessa keeps yells from the stands.

Growl of the engine, hiss of pneumatics, smell of kerosene – it was all too exciting to turn down. Then in an instant, Conner takes off. The hot wind is beginning to blow through my hair as the car's speed grows. I raise the checkered flag and wave it around, hearing a roar of cheering. I laugh as we come around the bend rapidly, watching a dirty dust cloud is left in the review mirror. We have almost finished the lap when I see Tessa's worried face. She grips the gate one last time before pushing past the crowd.

"Once again, ladies and gentlemen, your late-model division two-time champion. Let's give it up for Conner Cranston! Thanks for coming out to the Cranston Motor Speedway." The announcer says one last time and the cheering softens as the crowds gradually begin to exit the stands.

The sleek red car comes to a stop somewhere near the finish line and I instantly hop out of the car and grin at Conner, "I'll see you around." I say and he takes off his helmet, smiling at me before I run off to find Tessa. I run past the crowds and the stands, and finally see her familiar curly black head of hair and red cowboy boots.

"Tessa!" I yell, but she continues to walk ahead of me. "Tessa, I'm talking to you!" I repeat, and this time she turns around with an angered look.

"You know when you're watching the news, and you see someone get killed doing something stupid?" she asks me, taking a few steps forward.

"God, this again?" I arch a brow at her, yet she goes on. All she does is worry.

"I don't want to be that stupid friend who just stands around watching. He should never let you do that!" she raises her voice, pointing back to the track. I stare at her for a few moments, trying to figure out what she was really saying.

"So you're just going to leave me?" I say quietly.

"Me? Leave you? I don't know what's going on with you anymore. Ever since Meredith and Peter..." she says almost tearfully. I frown. I don't want to talk about Aunt Meredith and Peter, even if she has been by my side ever since. She had been friends with Peter and I back in elementary school, and experienced everything with me. I tried shutting her out but she just wouldn't let me.

"I guess I'll get my own ride back." I snap nastily.

"I guess you will." She counters back, and slowly shakes her head. She walks over to her dark colored car and I tense my jaw, walking away from the car park.

I was just trying to have fun for once.

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><p><strong>In the next chapter we will most likely see some Guardians of the Galaxy, but for now, I just wanted to broadcast Jennifer's rebellious yet intelligent personality. I kind of have to post this chapter as much as I want to dive straight into the action! She also has more of a past, which I haven't even mentioned in this chapter. It has something to do with her job.<strong>

**Thank you all so much for reading. I really appreciate the reviews, follows, and favorites! They keep me writing! What are you thinking so far? Do you have any advice?**


	3. Terrible Nightmares

I soaked in my surroundings and breathed the fresh air of summer. In the brilliant yellow sunshine the lake was a perfect mirror for the mountains that surrounded it. From above that watery world was so clear and perfect it could be another dimension, waiting for someone to dare enter it. But with each toe dipped into it, the ripples distorted that submerged kingdom, locking me into my own, forbidding me entry. 'I'm Not in Love' by 10cc was playing lightly from somewhere, probably Rusty's new iPod. I smiled and sank down into the dirty floor beside the lake, I saw Rusty, swimming and splashing around in the water.

"They need you, Jennifer." She says and looks towards me with a serious expression and I frown at her, yet smile at the same time. What is she on about? My expression then faltered, after I realised she was in the water.

"Rusty? Since when did you learn to swim?!" I asked shocked by what she was doing. Ever since we were children, Rusty hasn't known how to swim. I waited for her to answer, but she just didn't. She ducked her head under water and wouldn't stop slashing her arms around. Little muffled cries were swallowed by the liquid.

"Rusty?" I asked, my voice suddenly and slowly getting fainter. She was drowning! Her arms were growing more gentle with the passing seconds. Her noises were becoming more quiet, more deadly.

I tried to scream her name one last time, but I was mute. Nothing came out and I strained a second time to get something out and reassure her that she would be okay. Still nothing. Silent tears were beginning to form and roll down my face and I couldn't move my legs to go towards her. I pushed with all my strength to move them but that resulted with nothing but searing pain. Lactic acid coated my muscles and Rusty was now still.

My vision abruptly went black and I couldn't hear the soft rustling of trees, birds chirping, or the music from Rusty's iPod. Nothing. It was deadly quiet and dark. Then an eerie female voice whispered in my ear,

"Look what you've done, Jinx."

"Jennifer! Wake up!"

I wake and sit up as fast as a bolt of lightning. I turn my head wildly around me to see where I was placed-in my bedroom. Nothing had changed except my position; my covers were pushed to the side and my pillow was now knocked onto the floor. I ran the backside of my hand across my forehead and removed it to see beads of sweat streaked across the surface. I realize I was breathing all too rapidly and I force myself to take quick, even, and deep breaths.

Just a dream.

Rusty stands over my bed with her usual worried trademark expression, grasping my arm tightly and breathing almost as heavily as I was. I have to keep reminding myself that she has to stay with me, until her own house is built. Her hair is tied loosely behind her head and she wears a soft pink material. I couldn't banish the thoughts of her drowning out of my head.

"Was it…the same nightmare?" she asked quietly and loosened her grip on my arm, sitting down on the edge of my bed.

I shook my head at her. Every now on then, I happen to have a specific nightmare on the death of my mother, Meredith, and Peter. It starts off in a black room with dim orange lighting. There is a glass table in front of me, and behind it stands my three deceased family members. I can never picture my mother's face in the nightmare, it always changes; blonde hair or brown, tanned skin or fair, tall or short. But I know it was her. Who else could it be anyway? Aunt Meredith and Peter look the same though. They all just stare at me from behind that table, and then out of nowhere bloody wounds appear somewhere on their body and they all start screaming in pure agony. I am forced to watch, and it always frightens me.

"No?" Rusty frowns at me, looking a little surprised. "What was it?"

My cheeks are wet and my body is bathing in a cold sweat. The sheets are twisting around my limbs, probably because I was thrashing in my sleep. My heart pounds heavily against my chest. I tremble. The room is really dark. Not much light anywhere, indicating the time of night. The remnants of my nightmare still cling to my mind, haunting me. Do I tell Rusty about it?

I decide to, and throughout my describing her frown deepens gradually, and she doesn't say anything for a while.

"Go have a shower." She advises quietly, patting her petite hand down on my lap and rising from my bed. "I'll be in the kitchen if you need me."

I just nod and watch her exit my room. The beat of my heart has reduced to normal pace and I start to calm down. '_They need you, Jennifer_' and '_Look what you've done, Jinx_' echo throughout my mind and I don't understand. Who needs me? And who was behind that haunting female voice at the end?

I shake my head and glance towards the flashing red digital clock beside my bed: 3 o'clock in the morning.

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><p>After my shower, I changed into a pair of ripped jeans and rummaged through my drawers for a loose fitting shirt. I don't usually have loose fitting items, and Rusty always criticizes me about it. Just when I was about to give up, I find an oversized black shirt that I haven't seen in years. It is a sketchy image of Ninja Turtles from the comics I used to read. Luckily that it is oversized, and I can still wear it as a regular shirt.<p>

The smells of melting chocolate and toasting waffles swim through the air as I enter the kitchen. Rusty had changed clothes too, into sweatpants, a baggy jumper, and fluffy cat slippers. It was about half past three in the morning, and here we were awake and making breakfast.

"Did you make me hot chocolate?" I ask her.

Rusty shrugs without a smile. Well, we weren't exactly on good terms yesterday. She stirs a spoon around in my favourite mug. It has a daisy on it. She makes a double take at my shirt, and tilts her head. She is probably so familiar with my skin tight tops.

"Thanks." I say, yet make no move to collect the mug she stirred. My mind is busy with its own thoughts. That dream…

I look back up to Rusty, who I caught glaring at me. She makes a stubborn face and stares back down to the bench where she is now preparing toppings for the waffles that are toasting.

"Are you just going to pout all day?" I ask her and fold my arms over my chest.

She raises her eyebrows, continuing to chop up some form of berries. Just when I am about to walk away she speaks. "It's Monday," she says and finally look up to me with a bland expression. "Everybody gets a do-over." she finishes and breaks into a friendly smile.

I grin and go around, wrapping her into a tight hug. "You love me." I say.

"Oh, you know I do." She laughs a little and swats my arms off of her body to continue her cooking.

Suddenly, the annoying buzzer of my phone alerts an incoming call.

"Who could be callin' at this hour?" Rusty murmurs, and I shrug with a frown. She's right. Why is someone calling me now?

I walk around to the other side of the kitchen bench and unplug my phone off its charger. Before I even decide to answer, I attempt to identify the caller id but it is a private number. Typical. It's probably some sort of promotional offer for spa coupons or a foreign telemarketer. I tap the decline button and walk off with a sigh.

"Who was it?" Rusty asks curiously.

"Private number." I answer.

The phone rings again and I growl, beginning to get annoyed. It is the private number again. I just force my phone off, and turn away with a light smile in victory.

But I didn't win.

"Miss Quill, you shouldn't ignore calls like that." A familiar voice speaks from the phone that I had just turned off.

I freeze. I just stare into space, open mouthed. It can't be.

"Coulson." I identify quietly, my blood running cold.

"It's been some time, Jennifer. How's Miss Walker?" Phil says, referring to Rusty, and I slowly shake my head.

"What do you want from me?" I interrupt his easy flow, still facing away from my phone.

There is some silence before he says anything, "We need your help."

"I thought my files were demolished, burned. How did you find me?"

"We never lose our contacts."

"Coulson, first of all I do not live in New York anymore. Second, I quit S.H.I.E.L.D. a while back, and lastly I do not feel in the mood to reunite with any of my co-workers." I tick the excuses off my fingers. I am not happy to be hearing from _these_ people again. I really don't want to look at Rusty.

"Jennifer, this is a crisis that only your expertise can answer." Coulson tries to tell me.

"Well, if this was so incredibly important, why couldn't you come to meet me in person?" I ask with a frown.

"We're not sure what it is first, but it seems…suspicious."

"And why can't you consult someone else. Banner, Stark, Selvig. What's her name…Thor's girlfriend?"

"Jane Foster leans towards more of the physics department. Selvig is a little…off after New York. Banner is noncommunicable. And you know how Stark is." He speaks, and I lean against the kitchen bench, as I continue to listen for once. "It is too dangerous to speak this all over the phone, especially an openly hijacked phone according to Agent Skye, so I will arrange for you to be picked up tomorrow night."

Dangerous? Agent Skye? Tomorrow?!

"Whoa, whoa, whoa. Since when did I agree on this?!"

"I will see you soon."

"Coulson. Phil, do not hang up on me! Do not -"

_Beep, beep, beep_.

I clench my jaw and slowly turn around to Rusty who avoids my gaze. I know she doesn't want me to do it. S.H.I.E.L.D. endangered my life and caused Rusty's fear of basically…everything. I really despise the idea of involving myself with them again, but it's too late.

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><p>I tried falling back asleep in bed, and after many unsuccessfully attempts, I finally fell into my usual deep slumber. Snoozing in jeans – ah, five star luxuries.<p>

I could hear the sound of bees, all buzzing together in a union and it sounded quite strange and also irritating. The sound has gotten louder and louder, until then I realise that it is my alarm clock going off. I groan with eyes squeezed shut and whack my hand over to the bedside table, trying to mute the awakening sound but end up slapping the daisy mug of hot chocolate to the floor.

I curse groggily under my breath and squint my eyes open so I could actually switch that ridiculous alarm off. I yawn loudly and stretch, finding it difficult to do in tough denim. I really shouldn't have slept like this. What is the time anyway?

10:00am.

OH MY GOD. I'm super late for work! I widen my eyes open and run into the bathroom, ripping the hairbrush through my tangled blonde hair and splashing water up at my face. I squeeze the tube of mint toothpaste into my mouth and gurgle with a mouthful of cold water. Makeup? No time!

I run out the bathroom. Pull on some boots, spray perfume, grab my handbag, and run some more. My hand reaches the doorknob and I pause, look back. Waffles. There is always time for waffles. I fling open the fridge and hastily throw a bunch inside my handbag.

And Rusty! I rip a page from a sporting catalogue from the kitchen bench and fetch a red lipstick tube from my handbag, writing on the blank side of the page,

"WENT TO WORK. ATE ALL THE WAFFLES. SORRY. – LOVE JINXY XOX"

I'm so fired!

I drive to work in a rush, almost hitting a few cars, while I attempt to eat several waffles. Finally, I pull up in the familiar street, lock the car, and run out. Maybe my boss won't notice I'm late, but the jingle of chimes alerts every one of my presence. It's as if everyone stops talking and they all stare at me.

"You're late, Quill." My boss appears in front of me looking very displeased.

"I'm so sorry, it won't happen again Adrian." I plead.

"That's what you have been telling me for the last month. And it's Mr Armando to you, got it?" he says sternly and raises a brow.

I nod quickly, and he stares at me for a moment before tossing a blue apron to my face. "I don't even know how long I'm going to keep your pretty face in this business anymore. But for now, get to work." Mr Armando tells me and walks off to complete some other errands. Pretty face?

I sigh in relief. It could have been worse. I've already been through five jobs tops after S.H.I.E.L.D. but I swear it's not my freakin' fault!

I tie the apron around my waist tightly and straighten my posture. All I need to do is focus on work, taking orders and wiping benches. Not nightmares, hijacked phones, or arranged meetings. I collect a cleaning spray and cloth from the supply closet and begin scrubbing a vacant table. I pretend to be really interested in cleaning this one table, which actually isn't dirty at all.

"Did you hear on the news dude?"

"Nah, what?"

I find myself listening in to a group of customer's conversation, having reached that level of boredom.

"It was like a plane, or rocket crash. Something to do with aliens, I think, I wasn't paying much attention."

"No way. Where abouts?"

"Here. Missouri, man."

I pause 'cleaning' this table in my circular motions and look up to the two guys talking about plane crashes and aliens. They look over to me too, I quickly return back to work. Their eyes are trained on me for a few lingering seconds before they begin speaking again, about football and other sports, so I blur out of ears dropping.

Aliens, huh? They don't know what they're talking about. I already had my fair share of the Chitauri two years ago and I would definitely not like a repeat.

The jingle of the bell indicates a new customer and I look up to find a man wearing foreign clothing walk into the café. He wears a red leather coat, a black shirt, and dark pants. The man walks in looking almost fascinated by surroundings, studying the ceiling and atmosphere of the store. He must be from another country.

"Hello sir, would you like a table?" I approach the man kindly, holding the spray and cloth in my hands still.

The man seems to be staring at a Nicki Minaj poster taped to the window, and then quickly looks over to me, looking me up and down before considering his words. Does he speak English?

"Uh, no." he says and clears his throat. He does speak English, and sounds perfectly American. I tilt my head at him. "Actually, I was looking for directions."

"Ah." I nod my head. I'm okay with giving directions, considering I grew up here for a majority of my life. "Do you know where the nearest…gas station is?" he asks me, almost being cautious with his words.

I process where the nearest gas station is and form it into a set of directions, "Okay, so you turn left down this road here, and then keep on following the road until you get to the second round-a-bout. There you turn right, follow that road, and there is like a set of shops there. Gas station will be next to Burger King, you won't miss it." I explain as best as I possibly can and try to point and gesture to the different roads.

The man looks confused, but thanks me anyway. I think I explained it a little too fast.

"You know your way around here." The man says.

"Yeah, born and raised." I nod and smile a little, and he smiles back. "What's your name?" I wonder curiously.

"Peter, Peter Quill." He answers and holds out a hand to shake. "People call me Star-Lord."


	4. Star-Lord

"Who?" I question the man with a frown. I don't think I heard correctly, especially over the loud car horn outside. He lowers his extended hand quickly, that I was supposed to shake.

The man groans, as if this has happened to him many times before. "Star-Lord, man. Legendary outlaw –"

"No, no, no. I just didn't hear you." I reassure him with a friendly smile. And Star-Lord? What the heck? That's weird, yet why did it sound so familiar...? I've heard of it, I just can't place my finger on it.

I take some time to examine his appearance, and manage to be subtle. He has tousled light brown hair, which is thick and lustrous. His eyes are hazel, and flecks of silvery light perform ballets throughout. His face is strong and defined, as if his features are moulded from granite. And he wears a red leather jacket that is designed with different zippers and buttons. Other girls would defiantly find him attractive, but he doesn't seem my type. Something seems wrong.

"Oh." He nods. "Peter Quill."

I drop the spray bottle in my hand and it crashes to the floor, spreading its blue colored chemicals everywhere. Customers gasp and yelp at my abrupt behaviour. I drop to the floor and begin to use the cloth in my hand to clean up the mess frantically, before my boss notices.

_Star-Lord _.

He lowers himself to the floor too, and looks at me strangely, "Uh, do you need help?" he asks.

I slowly look up at him and shake my head vigorously. It is quite unbelievable, shocking really. My mind is sent reeling, unable to comprehend or process the images it is being sent by my eyes. I look away, then looked back to see if he was still there.

One of my co-workers rushes over with a bucket of soapy water and a mop. I jump up to my feet and abandon the cloth, feeling really dizzy. I bet everyone is staring at me, but I don't care at this moment. I run my fingers through my unkempt hair, and try to keep my balance.

_Peter Quill, Star-Lord._

This is no coincidence. How many people are named Peter Quill, and have the ridiculous nickname of Star-Lord?

He frowns at me with minor concern. "Hey, are you…alright?"

I can't answer his question for some reason. I can feel my ears pop; all noise blurs and it sounds distant and faded like background music. My vision is impaired and is extremely disorientating. My skin is becoming clammy and I feel the pressure of blood flowing to my brain as if I am about to vomit. But I don't. Instead, darkness starts to cloud my vision and it feels like I have just gone to sleep.

I have no idea what is going on right now.

It feels like I have entered some dream world where everyone's voice is magnified and all of the lights are incredibly bright around me. I can hear some people yelling out my name and the word 'ambulance'. This is so confusing.

Then it feels like a thick pressure is released off of me; slowly and reluctantly, uncovering my face. I can now blink, close my eyes, and blink again. I catch glimpses of a creamy ceiling and blurry figures hovering above me. I can feel soft neat sheets and a bright yellow artificial light shine down on me. Where am I? This isn't my room…

"No, ma'am. Please calm down. You don't understand. Miss Quill has only fainted and has a trivial wound her scalp, nothing major." I hear a masculine, formal and business-like voice converse.

"Only fainted? She looks like she is dead!" I hear a familiar Southern drawl argue. Rusty.

Wait, are they talking about me? I fainted? How embarrassing!

My eyelids finally open up wide, and I groan groggily looking around my surroundings. I am in a hospital as it seems. A place which I'd rather like to avoid. There is an ice pack, glass of water, and various bottles of medication placed on the bedside table. Rusty and the doctor haven't noticed me waking up yet and continue to argue.

I sit up and clear my throat dramatically. They turn to me at once, stop arguing, and smile. I smile back, and Rusty is the first to rush to my bedside.

"Oh my golly, are you okay?" she searches my eyes for any pain, and I laugh.

"I'm fine." I swat her hands away gently, although my head does ache a little.

The doctor slowly walks to my bedside with his hands clasped behind his back and says, "After you fainted, Miss Quill, you hit your head on the edge of a table causing additional injuries." He tells me and my eyes widen slightly.

"Do not fret, we have mended you up. You are able to be released now, although I recommend the proportion of the day as rest. Drink lots of water, and if you happen to experience any major dizziness contact us as soon as possible." He explains, and I nod. That's not too bad.

As he leaves the room, Rusty looks at me with a pointed look.

"Okay, what did you do?" she asks accusingly.

"What? No, nothing!" I tell her.

"This better have nothing to do with S.H.I.E.L.D." Rusty warns me and I sigh.

"Rusty, this has nothing to do with them. Okay?" I try to get it through her head. "I freaked out, and fainted…"

"Freaked out?"

"Yeah…I can't really remember the details properly." I lie to her, although I remember everything perfectly. She won't believe me anyway, and I don't even know if what had happened was real. I must have fainted from all the stress that I'm experiencing right now.

A nurse enters the room, carrying some of my extra belongings; my phone, handbag, bracelets. I slip out of covers and receive my belongings, and thank the nurse. Rusty leads me out of the room and to the receptionist's desk to be checked out.

I tell the lady behind the desk my name. While she does some rapid typing on her keyboard, Rusty speaks up again. "Your dad and Aunt came by to check up on you." She tells me and I nod.

"What about Conner?" I mention my boyfriend.

Rusty tenses her jaw and looks elsewhere, "He said he was too busy." She mumbles and I frown to myself. Too busy? What if I was in some critical condition? Too busy my ass.

* * *

><p>We get home by half past six, after collecting my car from work, and getting fired. Again. I was going to quit anyway, since I hate my boss oh so dearly.<p>

Was I dreaming before, or was it all real? It probably wasn't. I mean, Peter died all those years ago so it's physically impossible for him to be real. It must have been a hallucination, an effect during fainting perhaps. And I was so stressed out anyway.

"I've ordered takeaway tonight." Rusty says, placing her handbag on the kitchen bench and throwing herself to the sofa.

"Pizza?" I wonder hopefully and land on the sofa right beside her.

"Pepperoni." She confirms. She flicks on the television, surfing through all the channels; celebrity gossip, instant news, boarder security, non-stop adverts.

My phone begins to vibrate and ring from my pocket. I let it ring out the first time, knowing it's probably some relative worried about me.

I rarely ever visit my family, and it's really bad. I live in Missouri now, and I have all these opportunities to visit them but I just won't. It's not just because all of the painful memories will come flooding back. My dad has a girlfriend, and as much as I want him to be happy I can't stand the idea of my father with another woman.

My phone rings again, so I decide to hesitantly pick up. Even though I don't want to talk, I want my family to know I'm fine.

"Hello?"

"Miss Quill. You didn't forget our meeting, did you?"

"Coulson." I say and groan. The meeting. I forgot all about dwelling on S.H.I.E.L.D. with all this drama going on. I do not want to meet with them now, especially with my 'injury'. Even the doctor had told me that I needed rest.

"Listen, I heard about your little…accident." He tells me, almost reading my mind.

"Is that S.H.I.E.L.D. again?!" Rusty shouts in the background. Coulson can defiantly hear her, so I stuff a pillow in her face and scoot over on the couch.

"News travels around incredibly fast." I say, remembering how serious they all are in the business.

"Fury says it's fine to postpone even though everyone isn't too happy. We have a tight schedule." He explains to me, and I feel relieved. I still have to see them again, but just not today. I'm not ready for it anyway.

"Good. So when will it be?" I ask with a smile.

"We'll let you know." He answers mysteriously, and I screw my face up.

"No, like I need a specific date. Or a time. You know?" I try to cooperate but he just hangs up in my face. I scoff, glaring back at my phone.

"Rude…" I mutter.

* * *

><p>I finish off my last slice of pepperoni pizza before cracking open a can of cola and taking small sips. I should really be drinking water, but oh well. Rusty went to her room to eat her pizza, and I think she is sleeping now. I'm not too sure.<p>

I'm lying on the sofa in my pyjamas with damp hair, and various blankets draped over me while I lazily watching television. I don't even like this show, it's terrible. _Keeping up with the Kardashians_. Too many dramatic things are happening in one episode and it's so unrealistic for a reality show. Then again, my life is similar.

It's only ten o'clock and I am really tired. I should get some rest because I don't want to go back to a hospital again. I flick off the TV and yawn, leaving my dirty plate and half-finished soda can on the floor.

The sofa is surprisingly comfortable so I try to fall asleep here. I could describe falling asleep as like being caught in a carousel of thoughts. Every idea, notion and event from my day would replay in my mind, demanding analysis before I could be allowed to sleep. S.H.I.E.L.D., being fired, hospitals, Aunt Meredith, and Peter…

And then finally when the carousel comes to a stop, it starts up all over again. After what seemed to be like hours, I could feel myself being dragged into the deep dark oblivion of sleep. Finally.

Until something has to interrupt my achieved peace.

It is a rather loud shatter of what seemed to be glass, or something similar. I bolt upright, with my eyes wide. I look to the right, where the wall is made entirely of glass, from the ceiling to the floor. That didn't break though, but what did? Is someone trying to break in? Burglars?

I can hear the sound of people whispering to each other, but I can't make out the words properly. There are people in my house! I slowly get up, and walk as quietly as I can to the kitchen, sliding out a butcher knife from its holder and tip-toe to where the whispering sounds came from.

I make a turn down the hallway, the hallway that leads to the abandoned guest room. I discover shattered shards of crystalline glass scattered all over the floor. They broke my freakin' vase! Those bastards.

I continue to walk down the hallway, glancing into the different rooms on both sides of the hallway but there are no signs of any people.

"Hello?" I call out, which is the stupidest thing anyone could do. I don't hear a reply, but instead I hear more whispering. I come to the end of the hallway and slowly turn around.

I open my mouth to scream, but my mouth gets covered by a gloved hand, and the knife I hold is swiped away from me.

"Jennifer, please shut up!" The man with the red leather jacket whisper-yells. Peter?! There are a number of beings behind him, but I don't take time to look. My eyes widen, and I scream behind his hand. It sounds muffled and silenced. I know to physically fight, but my limbs are frozen.

How is this possible?! Peter?!


	5. Aliens in my House

I can't believe this.

I continue to stare my long-lost cousin in the eyes while I try to comprehend what is going on, but all I can focus on is the familiar color of his eyes that shine under the dim lighting. He is real? He is alive? What is he doing here?! I manage to calm down only slightly, and he notices.

"Promise not to scream when I move my hand?" he asks quietly, and I nod in reply.

He is hesitant but assured as he slowly removes his gloved hand away from my mouth. I take in a deep breath and continue to stare at him. My cousin, the cousin I had thought to be gone or dead for years and years, is apparently standing right before me. I find myself screaming loudly again and he reacts quickly to clamp my mouth shut.

"Jennifer," he warns me with a desperate look. "Let me explain."

My shallow breaths slow down, but my heart continues to race. After a few short moments he removes his hand again, but this time I don't scream. I hear the sound of footsteps run down the hallway, and throughout the house, but think nothing of it right now. I need to ask him so many questions but instead I say the name that is being repeated in my head: "Peter."

"Jinx." He says, and I take a deep breath and press my back further against the wall. It was as if he confirmed everything in one single word. My heart won't stop racing, and thumping rapidly through my veins.

"Explain." I say breathlessly, searching his eyes.

He takes a deep breath, and a short moment of thought before opening his mouth; "Well, I never died."

I just stare at him. "I never would have guessed." I say somewhat sarcastically, despite the situation.

He huffs and goes on. "I don't know how to explain this, man. You're not gonna believe me."

I almost laugh at him, "I've dealt with a lot of obscure things in my life, and so I doubt that your excuse will be that unbelievable." I tell him.

"How do I put this?" he murmurs to himself, seeming hesitant to tell me. I sigh and force myself to wait as patiently as I possibly can.

"I was abducted by aliens." He says.

I begin laughing hysterically, holding my stomach. For some reason he isn't laughing, he looks as serious as ever. I immediately stop laughing and hold my posture. "You're not joking?"

He sighs in response and rubs the back of his neck. "No I am not joking, okay. After the –"

There is a loud smashing sound of glass coming from the living room and we both pause for a moment. Oh no, now who's here? I push past Peter and run back down the hallway. Peter catches up to me with ease, and blocks the hallway. "I think I should finish explaining. Why don't we stay here?" he says with a cheesy grin.

I go past him once more and frown, "No! There could be criminals in my house Peter!" I refuse and look at him strangely, continuing through the hallway to take turn. What is wrong with him?

"No, no. Wait!" he says, trying to pull me back, but he's too late. I reach the living room before him.

There stand four beings in my living room, and I don't believe my eyes. I just stare, my body frozen with awe, and Peter clamps his hand down on my shoulder.

"I told you to wait." He says and I don't move or say anything. I just stare at them and they stare back.

Aliens.

"We come in peace." One of them says first. He is tall and has a strong build with red toned skin, and strange blue tattoos all over his body. He wears no shirt, only pants and shoes. He also holds up a dangerously sharp looking dagger in his hand.

There is glass shattered all over my floor, most likely from my television.

"You're not freakin' coming in peace if you have a knife in your hand, dummy." Another tells him. I turn to look at where the voice had come from, and my eyes widen even more if that's possible.

"And you have a gun." The tattooed man snaps back at his companion.

"It's a…it's a…" I stutter, struggling to say the words as I stare at the small creature. Peter squeezes my shoulder and gives me a warning look. I frown a little at him, not really sure what he intends to warn me about.

"Has she got speech problems?" the walking and talking raccoon says. He holds a bulky foreign looking gun in his hand, and wears these tiny orange clothes. I know biology back to front, and my teachers never mentioned anything about walking and talking animals.

Or trees.

"I am Groot." The tree introduces, but looks as if he is addressing the raccoon.

"What you mean, that's offensive?" the raccoon frowns up at the tree. All I heard was, 'I am Groot'... They continue to ramble on but other matters but I don't listen.

I slowly walk up to the tree, completely and utterly fascinated by the sight. He has four massive limbs. He seems robust and has a heavyweight physiology. I circle the tree-like creature, studying the wooden cravings of his body and the rich moss that grows off of his limbs.

The 'Groot', as briefly mentioned, smiles down at me.

"Hi." I find myself saying.

"I am Groot." He confirms with a deep and hollow voice.

"I am Jennifer." I say.

"I am Groot." He repeats.

"I…I know that." I nod, and tilt my head a little.

"I am Groot."

I frown, "I get it. You're Groot. I'm Jennifer."

"He can't say much. Only three words. And if you haven't figured that out yet, you're stupid." The raccoon tells me simply.

"Enough of your nonsense." interrupts the only female figure. "Peter," she says and looks towards my cousin. She has…green skin.

"These are my friends." Peter tries to introduce with a cheerful expression but he seems to strain, his expression revolving into a grimace.

"Uh-huh." I barely nod my head in response and continue to stare. They looked nothing like Thor or the Chitauri, so I don't know if they're good or not. They seem alright, and they are Peter's 'friends', but that doesn't mean anything.

"That's Drax." Peter points towards the shirtless one. Drax bows his head towards me.

"Rocket." Peter says and the raccoon smirks, reloading his gun.

"That is-"

"I am Groot." The tree interrupts Peter, with a broad grin.

"And then, Gamora." He finally finishes, gesturing towards the green one. Gamora has a slight glare in her eyes as she turns to Peter, "I am able to introduce myself." she tells him.

"I know you can." He smirks at her and she rolls her eyes at him. "Anyway this is my cousin, Jennifer Quill." He introduces me to them, and they all stare as if I was the strange one.

"Why is she more attractive than you are?" the raccoon, or Rocket, asks after a moment of silence.

"Wha…" I step back, a little dumbfounded by the question myself.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa. Rocket, she is off limits." Peter warns Rocket. Rocket just smirks and I widen my eyes.

The sound of a door slamming shut comes from down the hallway, and sluggish footsteps follow. Of course we woke Rusty up. I'm actually surprised she didn't awake earlier.

"Jinx, what's goin' on?" she asks rubbing her eyes, and yawning loudly.

"Oh god, Rusty." I sigh and shake my head. This isn't the best timing. She will freak if she finds out that there are aliens in my house.

"Rusty?" Peter questions, and stares at her.

"What?" Rusty says, blinking her eyes open. When they do finally open she looks like she is about to pass out.

* * *

><p>Peter explained everything to us, both me and Rusty, seated down at my kitchen table. Rusty had an ice-pack pressed to her forehead after fainting at the sight of the aliens.<p>

The aliens wandered around my house, occasionally breaking more stuff, and making themselves at home. At some points during Peter's story they liked to ask questions about my food and different belongings.

After Peter ran out of the hospital, he was actually abducted from Earth by these 'Ravagers'. Their leader, Yondu Udonta, stopped the other Ravagers from eating Peter. I never knew aliens ate each other. That's just weird.

The Ravagers taught Peter how to be the perfect thief, and took care of him; trained him, fed him, a roof over his head. According to Peter, he once had a massive criminal record, and everyone in space knows him as Star-Lord. That nickname was given to him by Aunt Meredith…

Yondu gave Peter a spaceship – yes, a freakin spaceship - that he named the Milano, after his massive childhood crush, Alyssa Milano. Typical.

He and his group of reckless alien friends are called, 'The Guardians of the Galaxy'.

He didn't explain much after that.

"So, why did you finally decide to visit?" Rusty asks curiously, turning the ice pack over on her forehead and leaning back into her chair.

I am interested in the answer too. Why hasn't he come to visit before?

He looks uncomfortable to answer, "Actually, I never really…intended to visit." He says, and a frown slowly forms on my face.

"What do you mean?" I ask lowly.

He glances elsewhere before speaking, "Well, the Milano had some difficulties and Earth was the closest planet to land."

"I heard people earlier this morning talking about some spaceship crash or something. That wasn't you…was it?"

Peter slowly nods. "Probably."

My eyes widen with sudden realisation. "If the rest of the world finds out about you, the spaceship, and the aliens, you could be doomed."

"Doomed?" Peter frowns, and laughs a little.

"What is so funny? Why are you laughing?" Rusty asks Peter.

"Because, Earth seems so tiny. I've had a lot of gangs come after me before, so I'm not going to be taken down by a planet with low intelligence and technology."

"You have no idea what you're talking about." I tell him, smiling almost sympathetically.

Drax walks up to the table with a pineapple in his hands. "What is this?" he asks curiously, turning the piece of fruit over in his hands.

"Food. It's a pineapple." I answer and turn back to Peter.

"What do you mean? The entire galaxy looks down on Earth." Peter tries to differ with me.

"Well the galaxy is wrong, Peter. You haven't been here for, what? Twenty seven, twenty eight years? Time has changed, and so have our ways." I begin to explain. "Our world isn't as safe as it was all those years ago. Children have swapped baseballs for mobile phones, and playing on the street to never going outside."

Peter looks down at the table as I speak, taking all the information in.

Rocket suddenly climbs up onto the table, breaking the silence, carrying some form of black lace fabric in his hands. "What is this?" he asks with a smirk, holding up what seemed to be my underwear.

I gasp and instantly snatch it off of him, "Stop going through my room!"

"Hey, don't yell at me. They all are too!" he protests.

I groan loudly and rise from my seat, storming through the hallway to my room. And in fact, to my surprise, all the aliens are crowded in my room looking through all my belongings.

Groot is gazing intently at the potted plants on my window sill, while Gamora tries stabbing my earrings into her skin, and Drax is looking through one of my drawers. The very drawer that stores my childhood memories.

"Hey! Don't look through there!" I shout, jumping over piles of clothes as I snap the draw shut. I avoid eye contact with him and look to the floor.

After a few moments he speaks, "Are these your parents?" he asks, holding a small wooden frame with a faded photograph. I didn't see him holding that.

I gently take the wooden frame in my hands and study the photo intently. I remember the moment so well. It was the one Christmas that I actually enjoyed.

"No." I answer his question quietly. "That's me, and my father." I say, pointing to the little girl with blonde hair sitting on the man's shoulders, and then the man himself.

"That's Peter there." I point to the little boy attempting to hide behind the Christmas tree as he tore open a wrapped box. "Peter's mother." I whisper delicately, and cautiously point to the pretty blonde woman who turned to scold her son.

"Where is your mother?" Drax asks, looking up from the photo.

The question kind of throws me off track for a moment. I look up and Drax and then down at the photo for a few moments, before setting the frame down at a bench and slowly walking off.

I don't like this. I don't like this at all.

First S.H.I.E.L.D and now aliens? Oh, what fun.


	6. Visitors

"WAKE UP SLEEPIN' BEAUTY!"

Something jumps on top of me and viciously the wacks a pillow in my face.

Slowly and reluctantly, I wake up. I blink, close my eyes, and blink again. I moan lazily, and try to push the thing on top of me away but it stays firmly in its place. Sunlight bathes my entire surroundings, and I realise that I'm still on the sofa, where I had fallen asleep last night.

"Get off me." I mumble in my somewhat deep morning voice.

I get whacked in the face again, this time with more force.

I rub my knuckles onto my eyes, stretch my arms above my head, and yawn. I open my eyes wide and realise that Rocket is the one on top of me.

"Ugh! Get off!" I shout in annoyance and shove him off my body. He lands on the floor with a thud.

"And, good morning to you too." He says, picking himself up and brushing imaginary dirt off his clothing.

My head feels much better from yesterday's events. There is probably still a bruise marked upon my scalp somewhere, but the heavy ache has almost disappeared.

Swinging my legs off the sofa and pushing my body up, I yawn once more. I can't be _that_ tired. Can I?

I look down to Rocket and say, "I will be taking a short shower, if you even know what that is, so don't break anything while I'm gone."

He nods and salutes me, "Yes, sir."

I shoot him a cold look and he smirks, being quick to correct himself.

"Ma'am."

"That's right."

* * *

><p>I walk into the bathroom, hanging my towel up on the hanger, and then shut the door. It was surprisingly early, seven o'clock, considering I did fall asleep quite late. Peter and his alien friends had been such a surprise, and I am still overwhelmed with shock.<p>

I peel off my clothes and chuck them into a pile, then quickly taking off any excess makeup of mine from yesterday. Before walking into the shower, I paused and realized I was forgetting something. But what? I gave myself time to rethink, and then it finally came to me.

Lock the door.

I was so accustomed to leaving it unlocked as I usually live by myself, or have Rusty staying over.

Then I leisurely walked to the shower, steam filling the room as I cut the water on. I bathed my skin lightly, being careful not to touch the scar that ran across my torso. Vibrant and gory memories filled my mind, and I shuddered under the warm water.

I mentally shook those thoughts out from my mind, and moved on to washing my hair, while finding myself humming loudly to Footloose.

Suddenly, there was a loud thump coming from somewhere inside of the house. I turned off the water and froze. The sound happened again, but louder this time. I grabbed my towel off the rack and wrapped it around my body.

"The hell are they doing…" I muttered to myself, unlocking the door and tentatively stepping out into my room.

"Stop it!" I hear a muffled female voice shout, and then the loud 'thump' happened once more.

Deciding to get dressed later, I walk down the hallway and out into the kitchen, trying to figure out where the obnoxious noise was coming from.

'_Thump_'

I sighed and walked back down the hallway, droplets of water marking a trail against the polished floorboards.

'_Thump_'

It's coming from the garage. I never gave them permission to go in that room! I grunted and rushed to the garage door, pushing it open in a hurry with a frown on my face.

'_THUMP_'

Everyone is inside the room, even Rusty. Peter was examining the sleek black looking car that I had in my garage, which is owned by my boyfriend. Conner didn't have enough space in his garage for his fourth sports car, and so I allowed him to use my garage.

Rocket seemed to be arguing with Gamora, while Groot looked angry and tried to protect Rocket. Every time Gamora tried to say something, Rocket would push back the fridge I had in my garage up against the wall, just to annoy her. That was causing the loud noises.

Drax was trying to comfort Rusty, who had her face in her hands, shaking her head slowly as she looked on with dismay.

"HEY!" I shout, leaning against the door frame and everyone stopped for a moment to look up at me. "What…what is wrong with you all?!" I shout, beginning to get angry.

"Well, I guess it's that time of the month again." I hear Rocket mumble, and I shoot him an icy glare.

"Do not ever touch that fridge again." I warn him, bringing myself back to my senses and calm down a bit.

"Fridge?" he frowns in confusion.

"The thing that you're pushing!"

"Oh, you mean the white box?" he says, and pushes the fridge back again.

"Stop it!"

Rocket laughs at my reaction, and looks up to Groot.

"Why are you so worked up about a fridge?" Peter asks me.

"It's not just any fridge." I tell him and walk on over, opening in it up to reveal shelves and shelves of, not food – but bombs, guns, and various weapons back from my agent days. I had nowhere else to put all of this stuff, so I decided a fridge would be big enough. Plus, no one suspects a fridge to be full of guns, right?

I hold up on old looking grenade and turn to Rocket. "This occasionally ticks sometimes."

"You have a ticking bomb inside of your house?" Peter questions me with wide eyes.

"Ticking bombs." I correct. "And no, not my house. My garage. Besides, I was going to put it in a box." I shrug.

Peter mutters something and moulds his face into his hands.

"I like this girl." Rocket smirks up at me, and I roll my eyes up.

"Why don't you -" I begin to speak, but I'm interrupted by the chime of my doorbell.

Groot looks up at the ceiling and takes a step back.

"It's a doorbell, relax." I say, but Groot still continues to look confused.

I don't bother to explain right now, and just sigh. I look down at my towel, damp hair, and horrible presentation but shrug it off.

"Stay here please, and don't do anything stupid." I say, and they all nod. "Rusty." I look to her and she nods, giving me a look that says 'I'll try'.

I make my way to the front door. Who could it possibly be? Quickly adjusting my towel, I unlock and open the door only slightly.

"Conner?" I say, but make no move to open the door any wider. All I need is people finding out about aliens living in my house and S.H.I.E.L.D will be tracking me in no time.

"Hey." He grins, but it slowly fades as he realizes that I will not be opening the door. "So, can I come in?"

I bite down on my tongue and hide behind the door. "Uh, yes – I mean, no!" I stutter with my words, trying to figure out how to get him to leave.

He raises an eyebrow, studying me for a moment. I push back a wet strand of hair behind my ear, and awkwardly clear my throat.

"Jennifer, what's going on?" he asks slowly, his frown deepening.

"I'm just…busy…right now, okay?" I tell him. He stares at me once more before loosening up a bit.

"Jinx, where did you put my jacket?" Peter calls out from inside the house.

"Who is that?" Conner asks suspiciously.

"Hm?"

"Who was -" he stops speaking, and tries looking over my shoulder. "Jennifer." He says in a warning tone.

I glare at him. "Don't you trust me?"

"Of course I trust you, but when I see you half naked and hear another man in your house I can only assume…"

"Only assume what?"

"Assume that… you know. You're…you know what I mean!"

I shake my head, "Well, I am not." I tell him, but he doesn't seem convinced at all.

"Who is that?"

"A relative." I tell the truth, but don't add anything else. "What are you here for anyway, Conner?"

"To visit." He says, and raises his eyebrow. He looks past my shoulder, and then back to me. "Anyway, there is a party tonight. The Rooftop. You didn't forget, did you?"

Yes.

"No, I didn't." I say.

"I'll pick you up at eight?"

"I can get my own ride, Cranston." I tell him, being unintentionally sharp.

He frowns, "That's new."

"And so is you visiting." I glare. He rarely visits; we only see each other at parties, or his car racing.

He opens his mouth to speak, then shuts it.

"Goodbye, Conner." I farewell and shut the door. As I turn around, _they_ are all standing there. I sigh and roll my eyes.

"You have a boyfriend?" Peter questions, growing protective. Peter barely knows me anymore. Yes, we're still blood related, but he hasn't seen me in years. As much as I hate to admit it, that's the truth. He has no reason to be so protective.

"Something like that…" I mumble, looking at him strangely.

"What an asshole." Rocket folds his arms.

"I am Groot."

"What?! No I am not!" Rocket tells Groot, being able to fully comprehend him. I wonder what he said…

"So you are attending a party tonight?" Gamora asks, and I nod at her and tug at my towel.

"Can we attend?" Drax asks.

"No! No, no, and no!" I answer instantly. Not only will there be _people_, but people who are associated with S.H.I.E.L.D or the government.

"I am Groot!" Groot frowns at me.

"Why not?" Rocket whines.

"I think it is best if we do not go." Gamora says simply. Man, she never smiles. I've never seen her smile before.

"Heh, you guys can't go, but I can." Peter smirks, and I shake my head at him.

"No, Peter. You are not tagging along with me to a party." I tell him, and his shoulders drop.

"C'moonnnn." He groans.

"No! That's final!" I say, looking at them all. "You are all staying here. You are not leaving this household. Rusty is coming with me, because she was invited too."

"I was?" she says quietly, and I give her a look. "I mean, oh, yes! I am invited! What fun!" she quickly says, trying to cover it up. I facepalm myself and sigh.

We still have the rest of the day to go through; I need to talk to Peter still, and I need to clean this ridiculous house. It was messy before, but damn, aliens do a really good job at creating a mess.

* * *

><p><em>Mystery (?) POV<em>

"With all due respect, you do realize sir that Fury will be attending as well as many other former operatives."

"I am well aware of that you imbecile." I speak coldly, pushing him aside as we walk down the dimly lit hall.

"Sir, that woman cannot be tamed. She is a very advanced agent." He speaks, and I turn around to look at him and he goes on. "She is also…hiding something. Something I do not know clearly of."

I continue to stare at him and he quickly adds, "Yet." to his sentence.

"You must underestimate me." I say and continue to walk on, and he quickly catches up to my pace while stumbling slightly along the way.

"N-no sir, I do not!"

"What we have is worth more than any of them ever knew." I speak, coming to a stop. He looks at me with disbelief.

"D-do you really think that is the greatest idea. Letting them –"

I cut of his ignorant shenanigans with a simple glare.

"We are ready. They are ready. It is ready." I say.

* * *

><p>Hope you liked this. It was slightly rushed since I had to re-write it a heap of times. I couldn't decide on how to set it out. Do you think I'm rushing this story too much? And what do you think so far? Mystery POV?<p>

I thank you all for your time to read my chapters. I appreciate it!

Don't forget to favorite, follow, review!


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